


A Good Man is Hard to Find

by gaysquared



Series: OmegaVerse Fairy Tail [5]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha Cobra, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Apha Erik, Enemies to Lovers, Heat Sex, Jellal has PTSD but doesn't talk about it, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Natural Disasters, Omega Jellal, Omega Verse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but only bc it's heat sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6940576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysquared/pseuds/gaysquared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jellal plans for everything. Except avalanches. Except for getting trapped for two weeks with an oncoming heat and no suppressants. Except for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, the title is shamelessly taken from the Flannery O'Connor short story, which has a very, very different plot, mind you. Read that at your own risk. I just thought it made an interesting title for this work. Jellal is an omega with trauma (mostly from his childhood) and he doesn't like to talk about either of their things.

It's Jellal's fault, really. He recognizes that. Realizes that as soon as he feels the force of his magic explode, too loud, too tremorous, where Erik stands; he guesses, having put up a defensive attack at the last minute. And the resulting impact causes the earth to shake as the snow around his feet starts to shift, and the rumbling begins. 

He hears it before he sees it; the oncoming blanket of white, snow shooting down towards them at a runners pace, and the next thing he hears is Erik's yell. He'd tracked Cobra up into the mountains over the last week, finally having caught him near a small village, inhabited by mostly kind folk, with a few Ice Mages in the mix. 

He's running before he's stopped to think; the village is approximately half a mile east at the slope of a hill, the mountain to his west. Get to safety, that's all, he thinks, and he hears Erik's footfalls behind him over the rumbling of crushing, falling snow, but he pays little attention to it. Not until the rumbling is a roar and his lungs are aching and Erik has caught up next to him, body locked up as he sprints. He can see the huts and brick buildings now, just in sight; the rocky terrain isn't helpful as he sprints, and gravity tries to force his fleeting feet into the snow. The roaring's still there in his ears, although now he can't tell if it's the avalanche or the pounding of his heart with every forced, cold breath he takes. The gates to the village are within sight, and his body, aching, bursts again with energy; it's probably been only less than a minute in all, but when he passes the gates he collapses into the snow, breathing hard, every bone in his body aching. A young boy falls to his side, shouting for his father, but Jellal doesn't bother to look up as he hears the clang of the gates shutting behind him. He doesn't bother to look back as another body collapses on its knees beside him, huffing out cold breaths as a villager; the boy's father, he guesses; approaches. 

The man tells the boy, Jonah, to go and fetch them water and blankets, and then bends down to look at them as the young boy takes off. 

"You alright?" he asks, accent one Jellal hasn't heard before, but he's understandable. "Don't worry about the avalanche. Landed a few hundred feet away. We were due for one anyways."

Jellal sits up, his body protesting, numb all over, but his mind whirrs back into activity, as he says, "I think I'll be alright, thank you."

He looks over at Erik, realizing he hasn't assessed his condition, but the man simply looks as tired as he is. Said man raises a finger, and pants, "same here."

The villager lifts a brow but doesn't say anything, only reaches out to help lift Jellal up, (although he refuses the help), so he can walk them to a little stone house near the base of the mountain hill. Jellal doesn't like enclosed spaces he doesn't know, especially when he's with people he's not sure he can trust, but the villagers seem kind, now and when he had talked to them previously about a snake-man. 

Jellal collapses in a pile of blankets in the corner of the little brick house, because corners are good, safe; he can see everything he needs to from a corner; and the villager, introducing himself as Felix, says, "This should be alright, until we can get you a proper bed. Your friend, as well."

Erik has passed out on another pile of blankets not far from Jellal's, but he's too tired to worry about the proximity. That moment, Jonah enters, carrying a bucket of water. 

"Papa," he says, and the father nods, and Jonah makes his way over to Jellal. A sealed leather glove dips into the bucket to grab a stone cup waiting there, which he scoops up and offers to Jellal's lips. The man accepts greedily, the water icy and cold, but his lips are numb anyways; he drinks until his stomach lurches, and Felix tells him to stop, or he'll vomit. Jellal nods, his head collapsing back against the wall, and his consciousness, his body numb and warming as Felix stokes a fire in the small fireplace at the end of the wall, begins to go soft at the edges, until he's falling asleep, watching Erik drink like a dying man as well. 

He wakes to the sight of an old woman staring him in the face, her eyes a blunt gray, and she blinks at him as he focuses on her. He calms himself quickly, remembering where he is, ignoring her touch on his arm. 

"I am the healer, the medicine woman here, I apologize," she says, her voice like rattling animal bones in the wind. "Your friend is up as well," she continues, and Jellal really isn't so petty, (or even awake enough), as to protest to the use of the word "friend." 

She's correct, however; he glances at the mop of maroon hair atop bronze skin, the excuse for a man; sitting idly in the other corner, staring at him. 

"You both appear to be alright," she says, looking down to his lips and nose, probably double-checking for frostbite. "We will bring beds in soon, so you can rest." 

Jellal feels grateful, and then slightly guilty, but he pushes that away as he says, "Thank you, healer; but the both of us need to be getting back down the mountain soon." He glances at Erik, as if to make the point that Erik will be coming with him quite clear. 

The healer frowns. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "All the paths down the mountain are blocked now, I'm afraid, with the snow. It'll be at least two weeks before we can clear enough for anybody to go up or down."

Jellal blinks, heart jumping up into his throat. "Two-- two weeks?"

She nods solemnly. Erik produces a rather gleeful smile, but he's trapped here too, the dipshit. 

"I am sorry," the woman says. "We will try to make your stay enjoyable, though; my son, Felix, I believe you met earlier; should be bringing in beds and soup for the both of you soon." 

Jellal nods mutely, barely remembering to say thank you. She only looks at him, worry plain on her face. 

Felix does as predicted and brings in two fur mattresses and bowls of fish soup. The beds are thin but warm, and the soup steams in his hands as Jellal swallows it down. It's rather bland but mercifully warm, burning his tongue, although he can't find a reason to care. 

Felix leaves them alone when they finish their meal, and Jellal realizes he had almost forgotten that Erik is even here. But Erik is the type of person he can only ignore for so long. 

"So," he says, voice a deep baritone as always. "Trapped with you for two weeks, huh?"

"We won't be dealing with any magic business until we get off this mountain, do you hear me?" Jellal croaks. "We won't be endangering these people any more than we already have." 

"Alright," Erik nods. "I'm fine with a temporary truce. But that means you have to play nice too, Jellal." 

Jellal swallows, because that's exactly what he's worried about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short; I wanted to write more but couldn't get more in before bed. There should be more up tomorrow; actual sexy times by the third chapter, I'm guessing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talking and shit idek man can you tell I'm tired

Jellal runs out of suppressants on the second day. There's only one pill left in his pocket, and it's been crushed by his body in sleep or the running or who knows what. The day passes slowly, his anxiety mounting; it's rather awkward, as he doesn't quite have the strength to get up and walk around yet, sitting in a room with somebody you're supposed to be enemies with, with nothing to do.

Jonah comes in, the boy's scent calming, and tries to teach Jellal some card game they play in the village, but Jellal's brain is already scattered, in pieces. With every minute, Erik's alpha scent grows stronger, simultaneously repulsive and enticing. That seems to be the only reaction Jellal ever has to alphas, though; all the people he's ever been close to were omegas, like him; Erza, even Meredy. Unmated alphas could be downright brutish, and even some mated ones, like Lyon, turned his stomach a little. Although that may have just been Lyon's personality.

The third day is when the cramping starts. His stomach turns with it; Felix eyes him when he doesn't eat. Erik sends him curious glances, later going out to help the villagers with daily tasks, or perhaps just to wander about, or so Jellal assumes; he assumes Erik isn't going to try and clear a path himself and perhaps get all these people killed. Trust, it seems, is an odd thing; but one he can't be particularly bothered by at the moment.

The pain worsens by the late afternoon, curling up in his muscles, and he realizes how harsh he's breathing when Erik reenters the hut, the tips of his ears pink from the cold. Erik lifts an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything, as Jellal quickly gathers his breath, almost stuttering at his abdomen clenches again. The other man dumps himself in his corner, eyeing Jellal idly, like he's curious.

He sheds his coat, sighing, moving a bit closer to the fire, and Jellal doesn't think about how he wants to run out into the snow because his whole body is burning.

"So," Erik starts, looking at the fire. "What kind of Mage lets himself go on a mission when he's about to go into heat?"

Jellal feels himself scowl instantly, but of course Erik can smell him. By tomorrow, the whole village will be able to smell him. He shouldn't be surprised that an alpha he's sharing a small space with can smell the pheromones coming off him in waves.

"I ran out of suppressants," Jellal explains. "You're harder to track down than you think."

Erik blinks. "Still seems like you'd be cutting it close."

Jellal feels his jaw set tight. "I'm not the type to let the whims of my body rule my life."

Erik purses his lips, looking like he's fighting off a smile. "Me neither. Yet here you are, about to be covered in slick by morning."

Jellal huffs. He sits himself up, stomach aching, and props himself on the wall. "I told you, it wasn't the plan. I always plan ahead. Usually, everything goes according to plan. But the universe likes to throw curveballs sometimes."

"Curveballs like basic nature," Erik says, nodding. "Makes sense. Was probably the easiest thing you could have predicted about your mission, but--"

Jellal growls. "Look, Erik, I'm not really in the mood for a fight, alright? And I'm especially not in the mood for an alpha being an insolent dick to me when I'm going into an unplanned heat."

Erik raises his hands lightly, in defense. "Alright, alright. Sorry." He laughs, but the grin fades quickly. "We'll find some unclaimed alpha in the village or something."

Jellal wants to scoff at "we," but he says instead, "like _hell_."

Erik's brows furrow. "Why not?"

"You all think your cocks are magical, fuck--" Jellal grunts as his stomach tightens. "I'm not gonna let some random alpha knot me." He can feel his emotions boiling up, up over the surface like he would never normally let them; even this is showing too much vulnerability. He despises it, but accepts it as an unavoidable truth, for the moment; and for now, it's honestly the least of his worries.

"You could always tough it out alone, I guess," Erik shrugs, leaning over the fire. "How long have you been on the suppressants, anyways?"

"Not your business," Jellal snaps, and recoils, disgusted, at his own display of anger.

"I'm just asking," Erik says, raising an eyebrow. "It does have relevance, you know."

"I know, fuck, I know, okay?" Jellal breathes for a moment, feeling mysteriously out of breath. "It's been about four years."

"Four; I'm sorry, four _years_?" Erik asks. "You know you're supposed to go off them every once in a while, right? They'll make you--"

"I'm already sterile," Jellal says, grinning a little, with a toss of his head. No need to delve into that nebulous, dark territory of pain in his head.

There's a quiet moment as the other man looks into the fire, and then, "You too, huh?" Erik asks, turning his head to look at Jellal again. "And, Erza, I'm guessing? All the slaves? I wasn't sure for a while, but..."

Jellal nods quietly.

"Well, fuck," Erik says, sighing and smoothing a hand through his unruly hair. Jellal imagines he agrees. The light in the cabin has grown dimmer, suggesting nightfall, and Erik asks, "How long do you think you have?"

"You said it yourself," Jellal grumbles, settling back into his blankets, the pain throbbing a little as he thinks about what's coming. His heart feels heavy in his chest. "I'll be covered in slick by morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Jellal I think you mean "WHO's coming," not WHAT


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the porn. This was where I was planning to end it, but let me know if you think it needs another chapter to wrap things up. This could be read as mild dub-con, bc heat, but I feel like Jellal's consent is pretty enthusiastic.

Erik agrees to sleep outside the cabin in a tent, and to let absolutely no one in. The villagers apparently don't believe in suppressants, which Jellal had guessed, and it wouldn't have been healthy for him to take them with his heat already upon him; but it still could have been an option. But, it's not, so Erik sleeps in his tent as the scent of Jellal grows steadily through the layer of brick. It's enticing, for certain, but Erik is more than his linstincts. He's only suprised that Jellal seems to think so as well; and even trusts him to stand guard.

And it seems Jellal is afraid of more than predatory alphas. When Erik asks, he even denies entrance to the healer, who brings cloths for him, and food; Erik realizes Jellal truly doesn't want anybody to see him like this. But that's early morning, when Erik has just crawled out of his tent to sit in the cold, swathed in furs.

Things are certainly different by noon.

He remembers the rest of their conversation from the night before; trying to reconcile now and then feels nearly impossible.

"Look," Erik said, shaking his head. "If it comes down to it, I can help you." He saw Jellal bristle instantly, and commended, "Look, not for my benefit. I'm actually trying to be fucking nice for once. I'll even wear a blindfold or some shit if you want, and you can just get it over with."

Jellal looked down, eyes dark. "I don't need anyone's help."

"It's not a fucking crime, Jellal," Erik said, exasperated. "Not all of us can be strong all the time. Why the hell do you think we've both been in Guilds?"

Jellal swallowed. "I suppose, in some strange way, I should thank you. But I doubt it will come to that."

Well, it fucking comes to that, doesn't it?

"Erik," a pant comes through the door. " _Please_."

Erik swallows, willing himself to stay still. It would be considerably easier if Jellal's voice didn't sound so... Well, _Jellal_.

"You know you don't mean that," he says, more to himself than to the half-crazed man inside.

"Just," Jellal sighs, sounding truly frustrated. "Just come sit with me, just a minute--"

"And you know that's not a good idea," Erik affirms, rolling his eyes. "Come sit with me;" fucking prick. He could at least be honest.

"Please, Erik," Jellal says, voice dampened by the wooden door. "This is embarrassing enough as it is." A breath. "You wanna touch me, right?"

On second thought, Jellal should be a hell of a lot less honest.

"Jellal--" he starts, some lecture lined up, at least, he hopes, but he's interrupted by the sound of Jellal's fist hitting the door.

"Damnit, it's still me, alright," Jellal growls. "C'mon, please, just..." Erik swallows again. "Just a little more desperate, but it's still me, please, Erik--" he chokes some emotion back, probably a frustrated sob. Erik's been there, too, he thinks.

"You don't mean that, Jellal," Erik says quietly, half-intending for the man not to hear him, but there's a hiss through the door.

"Don't tell me what I fucking want, Erik," Jellal forces out. "I have gotten off five times today already and it fucking hurts, alright, and I can make my own grown-up decisions."

Erik stays silent, waits to see the next response. It's quiet for a few minutes, rather blissfully, until he hears a groan.

"Erik, _please_ , I'm sorry, just come in here, and--" Jellal forces out a breath. "You know, and--"

"And what?" Erik asks, turning his face towards the door, voice dark. "Say it and maybe I'll come in." It's rude, he knows it, but this whole morning has had him strung out and it just feels like Jellal is teasing him, and he's angry, damnit.

"Really?" Jellal asks, breathy, and Erik feels a force hit his gut. Because of course he figured Jellal was probably being serious, but this is what confirms it. "Come in and-- okay, _okay_ , come in and, and _fuck_ \-- fuck me, alright?"

Erik blinks. It's unfair. Because of course he's longed to see Jellal lose all his cool composure; but not like this. Not due to biological inevitability. Erik wanted it to be _him_ that brought that facade down.

He gets up anyways, though, doesn't he? "Okay," he says, voice gruff, hand on the door. "I'll come in."

"Yeah?" Jellal says, voice shaking, and then, "okay. Okay, come in."

He's scooted back against his blankets again, covering himself gingerly. Erik feels an empathetic embarrassment at Jellal's vulnerability; he's flushed all the way down to his chest, breath harsh. Erik shuts the door with force behind him, even if he still isn't entirely sure what he's doing. It feels intuitive to remove his coats and furs, until he's just in his trousers, but he leaves that for later.

Jellal watches him steadily, eyes dark as they track his every movement, hungry. Erik finally swallows his pride and kneels onto the floor near Jellal's bed, looking at the naked man yet again; he swallows back his arousal, moves it to the back of his mind, because Jellal just staring at him, like he's perplexed. This is a fucking weird game of chicken.

"Well?" Jellal asks, still breathless, his cock tenting the blanket he covers himself with. Erik breathes smooth, and pushes his thigh between Jellal's legs.

"Oh, fuck," the man curses, and he would look like he wants to kill Erik, but his pupils are too blown, eyes half-lidded. Erik settles the heat of his body against the burning force of Jellal's, and pushes his thigh in a thrust against Jellal's groin. The other man chokes on words and tips his head back.

"I.." He trails off, swallows thickly. "I could come like that, you know."

"Would you like to?" Erik asks, feeling silly even though he's completely serious.

"You know I don't," Jellal grits out, but he pushes back against Erik's thigh nonetheless, and Erik feels the fabric of his trousers grow damp under the other man.

"I usually like to take my time."

"Oh, we've got time," Jellal huffs. "About three days, I believe, we just don't have that time _right now_."

"Alright, alright," Erik laughs, despite himself. He unbuckles his trousers, ignores the fact that he's hard off practically just the smell and sight of Jellal, and starts pushing them down his thighs.

"Please," Jellal croaks. "C'mon, _c'mon_ , I'm open and shit, just come on."

Erik removes the blanket covering the last of Jellal's shame and rubs his palm against the head of the man's cock, reveling in the groan that rewards him. He's steady, even though it feels like he should be shaking, as he pries Jellal's slick thighs farther apart, pressing a finger gently at his entrance.

Jellal's face is so red that if he didn't know better, he'd think the man were in extraordinary pain. He lines himself up, Jellal huffing almost angrily into the still air of the cabin. Those breaths turn into a long, drawn-out whine as Erik pushes in, slowly, Jellal's body opening for him like a gate. He settles deep inside, letting the man below him adjust, until Jellal pushes back against him, and he gets the message. He rocks in slowly, Jellal's head hitting the thin mattress with a soft thump.

" _Yes, fuck_ ," Jellal groans, his legs wrapping up around Erik's thighs. Who knew the man had such a dirty mouth? But then-- "No one," he's panting. "No one hears of this."

Erik cracks a grin, pushing back in again steadily. "Wouldn't dream of it." Not that he ever dreamed this would happen, either.

"Get down to it, then," Jellal growls. Ooh, a challenge. How fun.

That earns him a sharp thrust, aimed for his prostate, and Erik watches as Jellal's eyes actually roll back in his head and he chokes on his own spit. Erik doesn't fair much better himself, Jellal spasming hard around him with the pressure, and he has to grab himself at the base to keep from coming.

Jellal mumbles something, something like "if you don't do that again, I'll kill you," but Erik isn't really paying attention. Because he has his angle now, and he thrusts back, setting a rhythm. Thrust, groan, from either of them; a growl, perhaps, a panted word, thrust, repeat.

He rocks in hard to the lithe body below him until Jellal is chanting words in his ear, a string of curses and praises, contradicting by nature, but it's only a few more moments before that deteriorates into " _yes, yes, yes, yes--_ " as Erik grabs hold of a pale thigh, and thrusts in harder, because holy hell is he about to come.

He can feel it, tightening in his stomach, and he knows he better make these next few seconds fucking count.

"Oh, fuck _yes_ \--" and Jellal's arching away from him, body taught, neck stretched, Adam's apple exposed and bobbing as his head bows back. Erik licks his teeth at the sight as everything goes so tight he thinks he might black out, but that's just Jellal coming, striping up his stomach, hips working little circles back onto Erik, eyes completely back in his head.

" _Oh_ ," Jellal croaks, and Erik's swelling inside him, coming with a light graze of his canines against Jellal's throat. He grips Jellal's arm so hard he thinks he probably bruises him, but he doesn't really care, because his vision blanks out and it takes a good ten seconds before he can actually see again.

He's locked inside Jellal, and barely saves himself from collapsing on top of the other man; instead, he rolls them gingerly onto their sides.

Jellal blinks rapidly, breathing slowing, but his cock is still hard. "You need a minute?" he says, and if Erik didn't know any better, that would sound like a laugh.

"Thank fuck we're both sterile," he croaks out in response, and fuck, that _is_ a laugh he gets from Jellal.

"My thoughts exactly," Jellal admits. "Especially since there's a lot more of that coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired af man but Jellal getting fucked is A+ so hear we are


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter because I wanted a smoother finish annnnd I like you guys.

Erik discovers that Jellal can actually be quite a pleasant person when he's just had an orgasm. Downright nice, in fact. It's rather stupefying and glorious. And they spend several days holed up like that, and the healer chatters quietly to herself, a small grin on her face, when she finds them. After it's passed, however, Jellal asks to stay in a tent outside; he assures Erik it's not because he's trying to escape him, but simply because the room is sick with the smell of heat and sex and Jellal just wants to rest.

Erik finds the same thing when he tries to stay there; the pungent scent simply hangs there, stubborn and unavoidable. So he sets a tent nearby Jellal's, and lets the last few days of their odd truce pass. Jellal doesn't talk to him much, although he's never been a very talkative person to begin with, and Erik has a feeling the man is doing it for Erik's benefit. Which is odd, to say the least; because there's an implication, there, that he should be _feeling_ something; should be struggling with some change, adjusting to something. And maybe he is, maybe things are different; but he doesn't feel different.

He's the same man, just as scratched and scarred; and probably much less cheerful or energetic than the man Jellal remembers, anyways. Or maybe the end of the heat affects his perception; maybe everything seems calmer after that. What annoys him is that he's never been a man for introspection, but it's all he's been doing for months, and now it's only gotten worse. And all because he thinks he's supposed to be feeling something, and everything feels the same.

They walk down the mountain together, when the path is cleared. It's quiet, but Jellal seems less solemn than usual, simply contemplative. _Contemplative_. Jellal is so introspective, at times, so cerebral, and Erik has never been; but now he is. He wonders if philosophy can become sexually transmitted.

When they reach the base of the mountain as the sun sets, Jellal looks at him with intention. It's been days since he's seen that look, but he remembers it well. Jellal does most things with strong intention, and the few days were he simply floated inside of himself were rather jarring.

"I'm going to form my own Guild," Jellal says, his voice rather quiet, almost dampened by the rustling of trees gaining their leaves once again around them. Spring is coming, and the snow up on the mountain will melt soon, and that whole family who sheltered them will see dandelions shooting up from the snow.

"It'll be independent. To track down Dark Guilds, and disband them." He sighs out a breath as he looks at Erik, studying his face. "It'll be for repentance."

"And?" Erik asks, because he can figure where this is going, but he'd rather not be the one to say it.

"I'd want you to join," Jellal says simply.

"I'm not a very repentant man," Erik argues, looking up at the trees.

Jellal levels him with a look, and Erik has to blink at the intensity there. "The thing about guilt, Erik, is that those who have it, can see it in others." He closes his eyes briefly, breathes. "Just think about it."

"I need time," Erik says softly, like he really is sorry, because he thinks he might actually be.

"Don't we all," Jellal drawls, a small smile creeping up on his face. "Time to process. Time to make up for our actions." He tilts his head. "Time will bring us together again when you are ready, brother."

Erik blinks at that word, and tries to push down that irksome feeling of connection; of a shared past and shared traumas. But one cannot undo that, any less than they can undo the past itself. Jellal's Guild may sound like a wanna-be cult, especially with the way he talks about it now, but Erik can't undo history; and not the sex, because that's only one stripe of paint on an already covered, eclectic canvas. Shared history feels like a weight on his chest, but the shared pain, the shared guilt, is was threatens to bring him to his knees.

And after a long pause, he says: "Perhaps."

An ending has never felt so much like a beginning as they walk their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who gets really weird and contemplative when they're depressed THIS GAL


End file.
